Page 102 of Whirlwind

“I can’t wait to see the jewelry,” I said.

“They’re totally dope. I love his work, his vibe speaks to me, otherwise I wouldn’t have done this.” Tag’s eyes gleamed. “I’ve been wanting to do my own line for a while now, but haven’t been able to get to it. I’m really psyched about the whole thing.”

“Sounds great.” I could only imagine the line of companies begging for a whisper of Tag’s attention in any way, shape, or form, and he could sit back on his throne and take his time to pick and choose. I got the feeling he was picky and choosy in a good way.

“And, Violet, tonight at dinner, I’ll hook you up with Lars,” said Tag.

Hook me up with Lars?Lars was Tag’s photographer, co-creator of his video wizardry. What the heck did that mean? I glanced quickly at Beck, who only grinned at me. What had Beck told Tag?

“Great. Thank you,” I said.

“You’re off to Palau after this, right?” Beck asked. I wasn’t sure where Palau was, but it sounded like it was smack in the middle of the Pacific somewhere.

Tag shook his twisty curls out of his face. “Yeah, shooting a skydiving video there, then I go home to Bali for a week to get my editing done and chill the fuck out.”

Home to Bali?How would Tag react if he heard me say “Home to South Dakota?” Bahaha.

“We’re heading off on a boat to go snorkeling and get some shots in. Come with if you’re up for it, but you guys must be…uh…exhausted, huh?” He licked his lips and glanced at me, and my face heated.

“We are.” Beck’s hand rubbed at his middle. “Text me the details for tonight’s dinner, all right?”

“Will do. Greeks eat dinner real late and then party all night, so you two should definitely rest up.” He laughed. “If you can, that is.”

“Jesus, get out of here already.” The two of them clasped hands in good-bye, and Tag shot me a grin and a wave as he headed for the door and left.

“And that was Tag,” said Beck.

“That was Tag, all right. What did he mean by hooking me up with Lars?”

“Lars is his—”

“I know who Lars is. Why is Tag hooking me up with him?”

“Why do you think?” His lips quirked.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. Be ready to work your gorgeous ass off, babe.”

“Hold on, Beck Lanier. What the—what did you do?”

“I told Tag you’re a photographer. That you’re familiar with his work and brand, that you shoot live concerts, and would love to help him and Lars out in any way you could, if possible.”

“You did not!”

“I did, yes.”

“Beck, really? You—you told—you asked him—”

“Of course I did.”

I threw myself at Beck, crushing his body with mine.

His arms wrapped around me tightly. “I guess you’re not mad at me?” he whispered in my ear.

“Hell no. This is amazing.” I pressed my lips against his shoulder, his cheek, his lips. “Thank you.”

A noise rumbled in his throat. “I want you to have this opportunity, Violet. You should have this.” His hands cradled my face, his eyes searching mine. “I want you to have a blast, and I know you will.”

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